


MafiaFormers

by BrowneyedShammer



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Dolls, F/M, Family Drama, Humor, M/M, Multi, Other, Threesome, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-11-13 08:44:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrowneyedShammer/pseuds/BrowneyedShammer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started when Sam bought a car with the body of a handsome eyeless teenage doll in the trunk. He should have walked away then but no he bought it instead! Now he and his best friend Miles are on different sides in an intergalactic mafia war, each unwilling pawns in a deadly game. Nothing is as it seems and the lines of good and bad are barely even legible anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ……..I would like to know where the HELL this Idea popped up in my mind…because….well frankly……good gods, I don’t even have words. *sigh* whatever.
> 
>  
> 
> Chipperly is not a real word...I am aware of that but I like to put –ly at the end of words so just go with it! Thanks for understanding

**Mafiaformers**

**Chapter One**

“No sacrifice , No victory!”

Brown eyes wide in disbelief Samuel Witwicky, or Sam as he preferred to be known as, starred at the junk yard that was barely passing as a used car lot. He glanced sideways towards his father as if to convey his utter dubiety and horror. Ron Witwicky, in return sent his son a stern glare that clearly stated ‘you’ll take it and like it.’ Sam looked away from the unsympathetic gaze of his so-called father and turned to give the minimal required amount of attention to the enthusiastic car sales man, who was babbling along about family. Not that Sam cared; apparently his didn’t love him enough, because otherwise he’d be taken to a decent car lot and not this dump heap.

Bobby was way too excited, in Sam’s humble opinion, about his crap cars. Sam rolled his eyes as Bobby clasped his shoulder chipperly with a wide smile. Sam prayed he wouldn’t turn to his left and punch the supposed ‘car sales man’ in his merry face. If only just to end his own misery. A glance back at his father showed Ron might have been on the same thought.

“Let me tell you something son-.”

“Really wish you wouldn’t,” Sam grudgingly muttered under his breath.

“A driver doesn’t pick a car; a car picks its driver.”

Sam skeptically looked at the overly friendly black man as he led them further into the junk yard with a rainbow array of rusted and banged up cars,  Sam wondered could even drive off the lot without falling to pieces. His father lagged behind with a slight crease between his eyebrows and the teenager groaned at the sight of more ugly, banged up, falling apart pieces of crap. Would this hell never end?

“Now come over here, every piece of car a man might want or need,” Bobby proclaimed proudly as he extended his arm out wide to include his entire lot.

In front of the group of three, sat two yellow cars which apparently Bobby thought where worth showing. The old Punch-buggy to Sam’s left was hideous in every way of the word, while next to it sat a darker yellow Camaro. Sam approached the car to his left, not even glancing at the hideous yellow thing next to it. His father respectfully followed behind, circling it once.

“This one has racing stripes,” Sam declared with a bit of hope in his voice as he looked over the vehicle before opening the door and slipping inside.

Sure it was an old Camaro, ok a really really old and rusted and dirty Camaro but it was nice in an archaic sense. The boy ran his hands along the steering wheel relishing the feel of the cool leather beneath his sensitive palms. In the middle of the steering wheel, encrusted in layers of dirt was an odd symbol that looked like a robotic face of sorts. His own face cracked in happiness and he couldn’t contain the elation he felt rising in his stomach. It just felt so right to be in the Camaro. Ron had bent down to look into the car and caught the smile on his son’s lips.

“How much?”

Bobby looked up and down the car before answering. “Well considering the semi-classic nature of the vehicle, with the slick wheels and custom paint job-.”

“But but but the paints faded.”

“It’s custom,” Bobby said leaning down to leer at Sam through the window his smile becoming predatory.

“Custom faded?” Sam asked unsure, leaning back away from the smile.

“It’s you’re first car I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” Bobby said all hints of his cheery disposition faded. He stood up and eyed Ron. “Five grand.”

“No, I’m not paying over four, sorry,” Ron said with a slight shrug of his shoulders as if it didn’t faze him a bit when Sam’s face fell.

“Come on kid get out of the car,” Bobby said, again his happy face gone.

“No, no, no. You said a car picks its driver,” Sam rebottled.

“Well sometimes they pick drivers with a cheap ass father,” Bobby replied sternly.

Sam pulled himself out of the car while sending his father a glare. He shut the door and was surprised when the passenger door flew open the hit the ugly punch-buggy. He couldn’t keep a smile of victory off his face. Thankfully Bobby had walked off, Ron following behind nodding thoughtfully, but clearly not paying attention, so the attack on the vehicle went unnoticed. Sam lightly ran his fingers along the side of the Camaro as he walked around the vehicle. He paused at the truck, it looked open. His teenage curiosity got the better of him and he slowly opened it. He’d later deny it but he squeal in fright. Bobby and his father ran to see what had caused him to make such a noise. The two men halted next to the boy, each peering over a shoulder.

“Y-You still want it kid?” Bobby stuttered in distress, his eyes growing in size.

Sam nodded mutely, brown eyes locked forward. Inside of the trunk was a tarp wrapped body. One snow white hand exposed. He wasn’t sure why but even with the body he wanted this car. He wanted this car more that he’d ever wanted anything in his life. Bobby backed up from the car as Ron hummed in thought, rubbing his chin.

“Two thousand and we not talk about this with the police.”

Ron nodded before breaking into a wide smile. “Deal.”

Sam continued to stare at the body, as the two men walked off. It occurred to the teen that the adults weren’t that worried about a dead body in the back of a used car, and Sam didn’t even know what they should do with it. Did they turn it in? Burry it? Would its ghost haunt the car? Would it haunt him? Dark thoughts swirled around in his head as Sam’s eyes roamed around the trunk. A little bit up from the limp hand a tuff of curly black hair poked out from the top of the blue tarp. Again his teenage curiosity got the better of him and before he could stop himself. He’d reached in and pulled down the tarp to gaze upon the face. The boy could have been maybe only two or three years older than him. His nose was straight and cheeks puffy. He was handsome in a boyish kind of way. A hard face that still spoke of a child’s innocence.

His lips purse as he intensely gazed upon the ‘boys’ face, something seems off. Until he realized that the ‘boy’ didn’t have eyes and Sam could see into the hallow skull, which was obviously made of plastic. He let out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding. It was just a doll. A very realistic doll that looked like the dead body of a boy, but still a doll. Shaking his head, Sam scrunched his face and slammed down the trunk. Too much thinking.

Bobby walked back shaking his father’s hand and shoving papers into his arms. Ron handed Sam a set of keys with a pat on the back and wink. Bobby shooed them off his lot, muttering about bad mojo.

As Sam pulled out of the dump heap his father yelled at him to be back by nine. Sam nodded before turning right onto Stony Fork Boulevard. He stopped at a red light and almost smacked his forehead. What should he do about the doll? He’d forgotten at ask his father, but it obviously wasn’t a major concern with Ron. Seeing as how this was such a big secret and almost too much for him to contain Sam automatically made the drive to his best friend’s house. Miles was the sci-fi buff, maybe he’d know what to do with it?

In hindsight he should have never bought the car. It would have saved him a whole lot of trouble, but looking back, Sam wouldn’t change a single thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Companionary- is also not a real word ( I KNOW), but I’m not changing it! YEAH Chobits!
> 
> Oh and I also don’t own Transformers…why must I put a disclaimer?!

**MafiaFormers**

Chapter Two

Reluctantly Sam re-opened the trunk for his best friend to gaze into. At first Miles stepped back in surprise, regaining his composure the blond teen stepped forward and dipped down into the trunk to timidly poke at the tarp covered shell. Sam smacked away the other boys hand with a frown.

“Miles don’t poke the body.”

“Dude, we gotta burry it.” Miles said after a moment of silence, worriedly looking back at his house, as if his parents would burst through and accuse him of killing the doll.

Sam sighed and gently shut the trunk. He turned around and leaned against the end, Miles following his example. The two teens looked out at the other cookie-cutter houses that made up Miles neighborhood. A summer breeze with just a hint of a fall chill ran past the boys ruffling their hair and clothes. They continued to stand in companionary silence. Five cars passed by before either boy spoke.

“Where would we burry the body?” Sam asked half of him not even wanting to bury it but the other half defiantly didn’t want to keep it.

"Actually it’s a doll with synthetic skin modeled after our own and placed on top of a base body with many electronic stimulus transmitters!" Miles corrected.

Miles Lancaster was what Sam called brilliantly stupid. He had never met another kid that could easily juggle mathematic equations at the speed of a calculator, but completely fail at social gatherings! Miles was frequently called names that won’t be mentioned by just about the entire student body population. Obviously they were jealous of his friends brilliancy. It irked Sam that Miles quietly accepted his 'criticism' always walking way shaking his head with a smirk muttering 'everyone’s a critic.' Miles one and only rebellion against his oppressive parents, was growing out his hair. He was the prodigal son in every other manner.

Sam turned and raised an eyebrow at his friend! "Miles?"

Miles coughed and ran a hand through his long blonde hair, "It's basically a robotic doll."

"Without eyes?" Sam asked, shaking his head at his friends shrug. “We still need to do something with it.”

An elderly male neighbor called out a greeting, causing the two teens to jump. They smiled over at the man as he got in his car and drove off. Sam could have sworn he’d swallowed his heart in surprise. Miles looked just as startled, but quickly ventured off back to his thinking.

“Why don’t we throw it in the junk yard?” Miles said.

Sam turned to look at his friend, cocking his head in thought before nodding in agreement. “Yeah let’s do that.”

“Ok man but I’ll only help you if-.”

“I drop you off at the lake to star gaze. Yeah, yeah I know.” Sam said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Miles broke into a joyful smile and scrambled up his driveway and rushed into his tan one-story house. Sam chuckled at his friends antics but was too used to the other boy to even find it remotely strange, when he flew out of his house a telescope in hand, and a large comforter. They slid into his new car that Sam was beginning to wonder its former purpose of. With the windows rolled down the two boys cruised through the town of Tranquility headed towards the local dump heap, a radio station lightly playing in the background. Part of Sam felt uneasy that they were going to unceremoniously throw a life-size doll away that mirrored a human appearance. The other half really wanted that freaky doll out of his car. It reminded him of an anime he’d seen on passing. But instead of keeping the robotic doll called Chi he was planning to throw his away.

They pulled up in front of the junk yard and Sam’s ears flushed pink in guilt. He wasn’t sure why he felt guilty but he felt as if he’d stolen a friends toy and now planned to burry in in the sandbox. Shaking away the strange thought, he climbed out of this yellow Camaro, Miles following. They opened the trunk and just starred at the doll before looking to each other for reassurance.

“You sure about this?” Miles asked, biting his lip and looking out into the piles of junk. “You could keep it.”

Sam hesitated, but quickly pushed that away. “No I don’t want to keep an eyeless doll, much less a male doll.”

Miles shrugged and together they retrieved the doll from the trunk, making sure it was still securely wrapped in the tarp. Sam held the thing under its arms and Miles gripped its ankles, it dipped between the two, making the hold awkward. From any other view point it looked like a body disposal. Grimly the pair of friends made their way into the lot. Sam kept them moving looking for the perfect place to lay the broken doll to rest. He didn’t want to just throw it out; it did deserve a little respect. They moved a few yards in until they reached an open shed. Sam jerked his chin in direction of the building and Miles grinned in acknowledgement. Together they laid the doll on an empty shelf, in the dusty shed. The floor was covered in broken tools and dented metal, above the shelf a window permitted the suns light to shine through. Sam thought that the doll looked like a god on an altar, save for the missing eyes, then it just looked like a bad horror flick.

Miles wiped his hands off and quickly walked out of the shed. A deep feeling overcame the brown haired teen as he once again pushed back the tarp, but this time further. Surprisingly he found that the doll was wearing a single chain. On the chain, was a small cube shaped emblem. The small box was encrypted with strange symbols that glistened in the dusk sunlight. His fingers nimbly moved without his brains permission and he was unhooking the chain off the doll and shoving it into his pocket. He glanced once more at the doll before covering up its handsome face.

“I bet he’s gorgeous with eyes.” Sam muttered as he followed Miles out of the shed. He didn’t glance back as they left the large and frankly smelly yard and its monster junk piles. Miles chatted happily about one of his resent finds, as Sam drove the boy to the lake and his favorite night sky scenery. He could feel the stolen necklace in his pocket and it felt as if it was burning a hole in his pants.

“Sam did you hear me?”  Miles questioned, shaking his friend from his troubling thoughts.

Sam jerked but nodded. “Yeah!”

“No dude, clearly you didn’t, I said that tonight is supposed to be a meteor shower.” Miles exclaimed clutching his precious telescope, wrapped in a blue comforter, closer to his chest.

“Oh.” Sam replied, not sure where Miles was going with his statement.

"Yeah, although from the rumors I've been read about this meteor-."

Truly Sam loved Miles like the brother he never had but the kid could babble on about his science research and frankly speaking Sam really had no interest in any of it. Briefly taking his eyes off the road at a stoplight Sam's eyes traced the strange symbol that was in the middle of the steering wheel. His first question was why Bobby had a car with a body in it, followed close behind on why the car sales man didn't know about the body? Shaking his head of the turmoil in his head, Sam pulled into the Lake District.

"Dude its Mikaela!" Miles called out, pointing ahead where said girl stood with a group of other popular kids.

"Don’t contaminate the lake fags!" Trent sneered as Sam slowly drove by.

The mindless posy that followed him laughed along. Mikaela was the only one that frowned. She locked eyes with Sam for half a second before turning to Trent, running a delicate hand along his ripped bicep.

"Can I drive?" She purred, her eyes glancing towards his tricked out hummer.

Sam didn't get to hear Trent's response as they drove out of hearing but through his rear-view mirror he saw the jock motion towards the backseat. Cringing with laughter, Sam barely made out Mikaela's angry face as he turned the corner and drove farther into the park. The lush green that surrounded the lake gave off a tranquil air and was one of the reasons Tranquility was named such. That and nothing ever happened. Nothing. Sam pulled up to a lookout free of trees, which gave Miles a wide, clear view of the sky. His friend gratefully fist-pumped him and scurried out to set up his telescope! Shaking his head and putting his car in reverse Sam headed back out of the park. He was shocked to see Mikaela walking on the side of the rode, heading back into town.

"Trent must have really pissed her off." He muttered.

Slowing down beside the brunette he gave her an appreciative glance over. "I want a ride, I mean d-do You a ride?"

She shot him a glare, left over anger crackling in her dark eyes. "No!"

Her tone was sharp, but that didn't detour Sam, he continued to roll beside her as she walked ahead. "You know hitchhiking is the main cause of teenage kidnappings."

Mikaela paused; she gripped her purse tighter before walking around the yellow car and slipping into the passenger seat. "I can't believe I'm here." She muttered.

Sam glanced behind him and then all around. "You can duck, I won't mind."

"No, no, no, no." She exclaimed. "I meant here this situation, the same situation I'm always in. I just have a weakness for hot guys who all turn out to be douche bags in the end."

Sam nodded, not really understanding but trying to be comforting. "Why do you date them then?"

Her head whipped to the side and she just stared at him. Sam fidgeted not used to any girl, much less an incredibly hot one, staring at him for any amount of time. "Are you gay?"

"W-What makes you think that?" Sam yelled in surprise.

"You're too nice to be straight." Mikaela replied with a shrug. "Are you new to school this year?"

Sam really wanted to slam his head against the steering wheel. "No I've been here since kindergarten."

She looked at him as if he'd just told her that Santa was actually a drunk who killed babies. "S-Sam? Right?" She said squinting.

He nodded "Yeah that's me!"

"You know what I'm sorry I didn't recognize you and-"

"No, no it's cool." Sam replied waving one of his hands around.

She smiled at him. "Do you want to be an explorer like your grandfather?" The girl asked remembering his class presentation.

"I just want a normal life. Traveling seems to make my family go crazy."

"I understand, you want to outlive the family legacy."

"Exactly! And you?"

 She bit her lip in thought. "I like working with cars." She replied as if in a daze.

"You fix cars? That's weird. I didn't peg you for the mechanical type."

"Most guys don't want a girl working on their cars." Mikaela sneered, thinking of Trent.

"I like girls working on my cars in fact I prefer it." Sam jumped in.

 Mikaela smirked at the boy’s obvious display of affection. "Sure."

The sky had darkened as he drove the 10 miles down the road, turning where she instructed and stopped in fount of a small home in the rougher side of town. The front porch light was on and at the top of the stairs a large dog lay watching. Mikaela climbed out of the car, patting the hood.

"Thanks for the ride."

"Any time you need a ride just call me." Sam replied.

 Mikaela looked back at her house before bending down and leaning in the open car window. "Do you think I'm shallow?"

"I think there's more to you than meets the eye." Sam responded after a moment’s hesitation

Mikaela beamed over at him "I had fun, thanks for listening."

Sam nodded unable to form a coherent sentence as he watched her saunter up her stairs, giving the big dog a friendly pat and walked into her house. Sam stared straight ahead before slamming his head against his steering wheel.

"More to you than meets the eye? Stupid, that line was so stupid."  He cursed as he drove away!

One of the shadows that fell from the nearby streetlights shifted. A pair of red eyes followed the yellow cars retreat. A white smile flashed in the night sky before disappearing into the darkness


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m unsure whether to laugh or bang my head against the table. I might do both.

Sam wasn't all that surprised his parents were out in the yard when he got home around eight thirty. Mojo his small dog curled comfortably on his mother’s lap as they sat in a plushie chair’s gazing out into their perfectly manicured lawn and the bright stars in the night sky. Sam poked his head out to say goodnight as he climbed up the stairs to his own room, not bothering to turn on the light. He kicked off his shoes and pants, opened his comforter and fell into his bed. Gods what a Friday this was turning into. He'd had a horrible school presentation, there was a dolls body in his trunk, he found out Mikaela didn't even know who he was and he had no real chance with her and he still had a sinking feeling in his chest that his worries weren't even over with. Tightly closing his eyes Sam pulled his comforter over his head.

                                                 

He awoke to the sound of an engine starting up. However whatever moron was starting the engine couldn’t quite get it right? Groaning Sam rolled out from the warmth of his bed and padded over to the window, fully prepared to throw open the blinds and yell at the insipid halfwit who was disturbing his much needed sleep. His mouth snapped shut, eyes bugging out of his skull. In the driver’s side of his car was the doll. The boy, or doll, was wearing a pair of sunglasses and a yellow shirt under a leather jacket and denim jeans. His curly brown hair was more under control and his skin a bit tanner, but it was unmistakeningly the doll. Hijacking his car.

 

He cried out in alarm. Stumbling away from the window, Sam blindly grabbed for his jeans and threw on the jacket hanging on his bed. Fumbling with his shoes, Sam flipped open his cell and dialed 911. He ran past his parent’s room banging on the door as he zipped through the darkened home.

 

“Dad, call the cops.”

 

With the phone to his ear, Sam ripped open his door to dumbly watch as the doll drove the car out of the driveway and down the road. It was one of those moments where it felt as if his life was swirling out of control like a tornado had come by and threw his entire world off kilter. He didn't know why the doll was alive and he didn't understand what it wanted with his old, beat up Camero but one fact was assured; he was getting back his car!

 

“911, what’s your emergency.”

 

Sam bolted out of the house in hot pursuit of his car. He wasn’t about to lose to a ghost of all things. Foot fall echoed in the still darkness and luckily no other cars where driving on the roads at this hour. He was surprised to find that it was headed in the direction of the junk yard and was obeying the speed limit. “My car’s been hijack and I’m in pursuit. I need all units, the whole squadron“No, don’t ask me questions, all right. My fathers the head of the neighborhood watch.” Sam yelled into his phone, panting with the effort of his run, as the car slowed to roll over the railroad tracks and enter into the junkyard.

 

Sam crouched behind some stacked pipes and watched in complete disbelief as the doll smoothly exited the old Camaro. The boy-doll looked around twenty one and very much alive. He kept the sunglasses on and Sam really wanted to know if the sockets where still empty or had he suddenly found a pair of eyes. Sam shrank back in horror wondering from whom he'd gotten the eyes. The doll walked past the shed not even giving it a glance; in his hands he held a small black device. The boy held it up as if he wanted to gaze at the sky through it which seemed plausible since the new Google star app; however, the device shuttered and a bright light emitted from the center, brightly bursting out and disappearing into the sky.  
  
Hands shaking Sam retrieved his cell from his pocket and fumbled to find the record button. In a low whisper that hitched in fear, he recorded what he believed to be his last words.

“My name is Sam Witwicky. Whoever finds this, I’m being hunted by a doll, it’s stole my car. Since these are my last words on Earth I want to say: Mom, Dad I love you guys. Dad you should have never bought me a haunted car. If you find Busty Beauties under my bed it's not mine I was holding it for Miles." Sam glanced back at the doll and its strange lightening device. "Okay, that’s not true. It’s mine. Uncle Charles gave it to me. I’m sorry. Mojo I love you."  
  
Sam closed his phone with shaky fingers and started to back up slowly, wondering if he managed to flee town, would the doll follow him. A dog on the other side of the junk yard growled its ears down and lips curled back to show its canines. Sam turned putting a shaky finger to his lips.  
  
"Ssh nice dog."  
  
The Rottweiler growled angrily, hackles rising as its companion also joined it, snarling ferociously. Sam looked back at the doll who continued the hold the light device to the sky. As if it was a batman beacon and someone would swoop in. Sam briefly panicked it was calling for help to kill him. Luckily the dogs where chained to a wall but Sam wouldn't bet his life to find out how secure they truly where. He took off running as the two dogs charged at him barking like crazy. The doll turned to look for the noise and a shutter ran through Sam as he swore he made eye contact with it before he turned the corner, the savage guard dogs close on his heels. His feet crunched against the dirt and his breathing became labored. If he survived he swore to the almighty he'd start working out.  
  
Dimly illumined by lamps the junk yard distinctly reminded Sam of every horror film he'd ever watches in his short life, he couldn't quell his fear that he'd be thy one character that died horribly. Sam realized he was royally screwed when he charged into a large garage at full speed, empty of everything save a single round post in the middle. He jump up on the post and was horrified to find the dogs had continued to follow him. He cried out and almost toppled over as they jumped up to get him. One of them succeeded, and ripped a hole in his jeans, trying to pull him down. He yelled out and kicked at the animal, it whimpered and retreated.  
  
A cop car pulled up and Sam was thankful to see two policemen step out and fire warning shots to scare away the animals. He climbed down once the dogs had run out of sight and smiled at the two men!  
  
"Good you're here I thought-"  
  
"Samuel Witwicky, you have the right to remain silent." one of the policemen said as he grabbed Sam’s shoulder and spun him around, pressing his cheek into the hood of the car.

 

“Shut up!” The other cop sneered.

 

Sam sputtered, and tried to prove his innocence, but his pleads fell on deaf ears. He gave up and just allowed himself to be roughly shoved into the back seat. As the cops got in the front and drove out of the junk yard, Sam could just make out his car, the doll was no-where to be seen. He let his forehead thump against the window. This was defiantly the worst day ever, and he really didn’t know if it could get any more horrific. His parents were going to flip.

 

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

 

“It held a light to the sky?”

 

“It held a light to the sky!” Sam confirmed, to the skeptical detective.

“Okay cheifie. Time to fill her up!” The crude man, who claimed to be a detective, said as he pulled out a small orange bottle meant for urine and drug testing and a Kleenex. “What are you rolling? Whippets? Goofballs? A little wowie sauce with the boys?”

Sam leaned back in his chair, adjacent to the desk on which the cop sat on, trying to distance himself from the older man. His eyes where rimmed black from his complete lack of sleep, and his mouth hurt from frowning, the morning sunlight had managed to creep thought cracks in the blinds at the station, making the room feel sleepy. It was slightly understandable the cops might find him a little strange, but to assume he was a druggie was an insult to his ego. His father sat nearby, his face as equally as tired, but he didn’t look at Sam that judgmentally. He was grateful his father loved him enough to come and collect him from the police department, even if he was wearing his white pajamas. He just couldn’t understand why his father would pick him up here but not buy him a normal car?

“No I’m not on any drugs!” Sam replied tiredly, dealing with this questionable cop was giving him a serious headache.

The cop that had shoved him against his car in the junk yard threw a bottle at the one interrogating him. Sam was partly impressed when the man easily caught the bottle. “Found it in your pocket. ‘Mojo.’ Is that what the kids are doing now? A little bit of Mojo?”

“They’re my dog’s pain-pills.” Sam said simply, he was beginning to wonder how the boorish man had gotten to become a detective, because clearly he lacking in listening skills.

“A Chihuahua.” Ron supplied, trying to be helpful.

The cop languidly rubbed his face with his right hand, as if he was the one holding back. Sam looked at the man’s face, his eyes darting to the cop’s side, as his arm moved to reveal his hidden gun. It bothered Sam that the bad-mannered cop carried a fire-arm. He wondered if the man went around shooting people he became annoyed with. Hopefully he wasn’t the next victim, although next to being haunted by a doll, a headshot sounded merciful.

“What was that?” The gruff cop said gleefully.

Sam leaned back even further, wonder if his death was about to come next. “What was what?”

“You eyeballing my piece, Fifty cent?” The cop challenged, opening his leather jacket to uncover the hidden gun. You wanna go? Make something happen? Because I promise you I will bust you up.”

Maybe it was the cop’s ridiculous 80’s mustache or possible it could have been how he got a rise frightening kids, but Sam had a feeling this cop just wasn’t right. That wasn’t the correct, Sam knew this man was either closet  schizophrenic or he was the one that was trippin’. His temples pounded, from lack of sleep and the all-around hectically stressful day he’d been having. Sam wanted more than anything to wearily rub a hand along his forehead, if only to relieve some of the pressure in his cranium, but he was uncertain of the so-called cop would find that as a weakness. The mna need a hug and padded room stat.

“Are you on drugs?” Sam asked innocently.

The cop straightened up, his face growing a tomato red, eyes bulging out in anger. “Get out of my office.” He cried.

Sam jerked to his feet, and headed straight for the door. He did not have to be told twice. Ron was fast on his heels, and together they silently walked out of the police station. Sam exhaustedly climbed into his father’s red convertible, and just turned his head to the side, awaiting a lecture he expected from his old man. Ron shook his head, putting the key into the ignition and cranking up the car.

“We’ll talk when you’ve gotten some sleep.”

Sam nodded tiredly, agreeing with that plan. His eyes closed before they’d pulled out of the parking lot. The same pair of ruby red eyes watched the boys head loll back against the white leather seat. They narrowed, wanting to jump in but knew it was better to wait. As the saying went ‘good things come to those who wait.’

* * *

Unmistakeningly- I should seriously start an abridged dictionary.

So I’m not too sure about pairings…..and I like going against the norm, so you may be surprised!! No I stand correct you Will be surprised! Eh I also like my comfort zone…..sooo…


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Walking down a road normally takes you to your desired destination…….I shouldn’t have taken a short cut because I’m sooo lost it’s funny.

MafiaFormers 

Chapter Four

“Dude are you trippin’?”

“Miles? Miles, listen to me. Listen, the doll stole my car, okay?” Sam sighed into his phone, as he paced around in his kitchen, the evening light casting shadows.

“How can a doll steal your car?” Miles asked his voice heavy with incredulity.

“Satan’s Camaro is in my yard. It’s stalking me, it must work for the doll.” Sam uttered in horror, his voice shaking as he starred out the kitchen window at the car, innocently sitting in the driveway.

Miles chuckled on the other side of the line. “Okay then, in other news did you see the news last night. The meteor shower was phenomenal and a few meteors even hit some residences, it’s all over the news. I hear they’re all locked down, afraid of space viruses and other nonsense.”

“That’s nice.” Sam replied, his lack of interest partly to do with his lack of sleep.

“No Miles I didn’t have time to sit and stare at the sky, I was running for my life from a psychopathic doll out to kill me.” Sam cried into the phone, a pitch below yelling.

His eyes continuously flickered to the yellow Camaro innocently sitting in the driveway. He bit his lip and looked at the digital clock on the stove, it read five-thirty and Sam sent a grateful prayer his father who had somehow managed to convince his over-bearing mother, to let him stay home and sleep. He would have slept regardless and staying home to do so was easier than getting a detention because he dosed off in class. He was also reluctant to dive to school in his ‘car’, unsure whether the doll would pop out and dismember him or if the car was in on the attack.

His legs itched to move and he suddenly felt empathetic with caged animals at the zoo, constantly being watched but unable to move. The feeling hit him like a wave and suddenly he had to move, he had to leave, to just get away. His mind fixated Sam, shut his phone on Miles mid-word and bolted out of the kitchen, giving Mojo a pat on the head. His eyes flickered to the side, and right near the doorstep lay his mother’s purple mountain bike she never used. He lifted it up, throwing his leg over the side and peddled as if the devil himself was chasing him. The sound of tires on the asphalt road confirmed that the devil’s Camaro was in fact pursuing him.

“No, no, no, no.” Sam panted as he zipped along the sidewalk.

His eyes were glued forward, his mind screaming at him to continue on. _I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die._ Sam’s mother’s bike suddenly lurched forward and then halted its movement. Unfortunately his body didn’t get that message and kept propelling itself. He cried out, with no time to brace himself, and face-planted into the sidewalk in front of a quaint café. A group of girls burst into laughter at his obvious fail, as other customers has started to move towards him with looks of concern, amusement and curiosity.

“Oh my god! Sam are you alright?” Mikaela asked her voice high and full of surprise. Behind her, her friends tittered with giggles and openly pointed at Sam’s prone figure on the ground.

Sam scrambled up, dusted himself off and looked straight at Mikaela, his eye wide “I’m not ok, all right? I’m losing my mind a bit.”

The sound of a car’s wheels slowly rolling along the road reached Sam’s ears and his face paled. Of course if anyone bothered to look, that a car was driving itself they too might have started to slowly unweave, but due to the extent of Sam’s own internal freak out, he’d created enough of a skeptical that no-one noticed the car. He left the bike where it had crashed him and he took off running. He didn’t have a destination in mind, just the need to run.

Mikaela watched Sam closely and felt a pang of sadness when he’d brushed her off and ran away. She turned to her friends, who were all still laughing about the fallen boy. “You know what? I’ll catch you guys later.” She replied gruffly, standing up abruptly and leaving the petty table behind her. Mikaela power-walked to her moped and quickly started the engine, before driving in the direction she’d seen Sam disappear to.

Sam let his thoughts flow through him as he ran. Again he felt the dull ache in his calf muscles that protested the abuse and his lungs where burning. He sprinted down a narrow alley, knowing the doll couldn’t follow him and would have to take another route, hopefully giving him enough time to make another escape. He ended up under a bridge, half of which had been converted into a tiny parking lot and the other half sat ten orderly rows of ties and scrap metal. His first instinct was to dive behind the tires and just hide, but he had an inkling the doll would be able to sniff him out and doll’s weren’t supposed to smell. He stood frozen in place, unable to decide whether to turn left, right, or hide. A cop car zoomed in from the left, its sirens blazing.

“Oh great more cops.” Sam muttered under his breath. He didn’t need a repeat of last night, but he really didn’t want to be murdered by a doll and its haunted car. “Officer, listen.” Sam cried as he flew to the car, running into the front hood.

“Thanks god you’re here! I’ve had the worst day ever! I’ve been….I’ve been stalked here by a doll that stole my car.” Sam said thumping the hood lightly to emphasize his point, he could just barely make out the figure of a person in the driver’s seat.

The car jerked forward slightly, startling Sam enough to get off the hood and back up a pace. “Ok I’m sorry.  I’m….I didn’t mean to hit your car.” He cried out as the car edged closer to bump into his knees.

Sam raised his arms in the air, to show he wasn’t going to be a threat. He assumed that his action of surrender would make the cop cease its gradual moment forward, instead the car jerked forward even faster. In his haste to move, Sam tangled himself in his own legs and fell ungracefully to the dusty ground. The car continued to push forward, making Sam scrambled backwards, yelling his alarm. When his back met the grill of another car, Sam knew he was in trouble. The police car stopped advancing but his legs where already under the front half and Sam was again muttering his love for his parents.

“Please Okay what do you want from me?”

“Where are the glasses?” A loud voice boomed over the police car’s intercom system.

Sam yelped, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

The car door flew open as if kicked and a tall man stepped out. His eyes where hidden behind his large sunglasses, and his blue uniform stretched tight against his muscular chest, leaving nothing to imagination. His black hair was cut short and layered. Pinks lips pursed in a satisfied smirk that spoke of nothing good. The man had an air of arrogance and danger as he deliberately walked towards Sam, his smirk increasing to a grin as the boy wiggled in fear, face contorted.

“Are you username Ladiesman217?”

Sam’s eyes widened as he briefly wondered why a cop would know that. “Y-Yeah.”

The man leaned down as he reached Sam, his right hand cupping Sam’s chin, his fingers cold against Sam’s flushed skin. It was soothing in a terrifying way. The man spoke slowly as if to convey his seriousness, and heighten the tension. “Where. Are. The. Glasses?”

His body tensed and Sam shuddered. Behind the black glasses Sam could almost make out a pair of inhumanly glowing red eyes. His mind was screaming at him to run as far away as possible. Blindly reaching out he shoved the man away from him, the cold fingers ripped away. His reaction startled the cop, who didn’t think Sam would fight back. The brief second gave Sam enough time to wiggle out from under the car and scramble over the beat up Chevy that was behind him. The cop had shaken himself out of his surprise and was a breath behind the teen; fingers reached out to grab but missed their target. Sam ran from the bridge and the deranged police officer. Why would a cop want his great-grandfathers glasses? How would he have known his ebay account?

He turned his head to check on the cop and ran into Mikaela on her blue moped. She cried out in surprise as Sam tackled her to the ground and her moped zoomed into a brick wall. She growled under her breath and looked up at the frantic boy, who was perpetually glancing behind his shoulder.

“God, what is your problem Sam?” Mikaela sneered, this was the last time she tried to help another person. All it caused was problems.

Sam hurriedly tugged on her arm, pulling her up and popping her shoulder. “Ok there’s a monster, with red eyes. It just attacked me.”

Mikaela raised one of her perfectly manicured eyebrows and pursed her lips in doubt. The cop came sprinting into view, his glasses no longer on his face and his red eyes blazing making his beautiful silhouette twisted and frightening. Sam looked around just at his wit’s end. His yellow Camaro came barreling from the right, clouds of dust swirling behind it. The doll kept one hand on the steering wheel the other reached across and pushed open the passenger’s door as he halted to a stop. Only a few feet from where the two teens stood. Dusk was approaching and Sam couldn’t think of a worse possibility then being in the dark with a crazy cop in a barren parking lot that seemed to have been made to kill teenagers.

“We have to get in the car. Get it!” Sam cried as he tried to push Mikaela in.

“I don’t want to.” She said her voice shaking with fear, her eyes glued to the cop’s fast approach.

“Get in the car. Trust me, trust me.” Sam pleaded as the cop snarled and yelled something.

The boy gave Sam a look that asked them to hurry up. His hands gripped the steering wheel, pinks lips pouting. But he made no move to help. It was as if he was giving them a choice.

“Sam?”

Sam didn’t waste any time, he didn’t believe they had that much, if they wanted to leave alive. With both hands he pushed the small of Mikaela’s back, forcefully shoving her into the car. Her face pressed into the boy’s arm and knee hitting the arm rest. Sam scrambled in and slammed the door shut. “Go, go, go, go!”

The cop slammed himself against the car door his face livid, and his nails clawing at the window. The boy pounded the accelerator with his right foot and the car was speeding off. The cop had pulled out a gun and was shooting at the car. A few hitting and cracking the back window.

“Oh god’s we’re gonna die.” Mikaela cried clutching the boys arm as Sam tried to pull her back.

The boy grimaced as her nails dug into his skin but he didn’t say anything, he didn’t even take his eyes off the road. Sam wrapped an arm around Mikaela’s thin waist and pulled her into his lap. She wiggled uncomfortably, her breathing coming in harsh pants that mirrored his own. Their eyes where dilated and they both looked at the boy, Sam’s gaze holding more fear. He touched his pocket and somehow the feel of the necklace put his mind more at ease. The boy continued to stare straight ahead, but his right arm reached out to turn on the radio and soft, smooth Jazz filled the cabin.

“Where is he taking us?” Mikaela whispered, turning her head so her lips brushed Sam’s ear.

Sam was surprised that her breath against this ear didn’t send shivers of pleasure down his spine. “At least we ditched the monster right?”

Mikaela nodded and they lapsed into silence, allowing the Jazz to take over. The boy’s eyes flickered to the two as he pulled into the parking lot of a dark factory. Sam was about to question when police sirens rang behind them. He didn’t need a second look to know the boy wanted them to get out. He latched onto Mikaela’s wrist and tugged her from the passenger’s seat. They stumbled forward and headed down an embankment as the police car slid into view and then the man flew from his car guns blazing.

Sam cried out as the boy in the yellow shirt pulled his own gun from his leather jacket and aimed for the man. He didn’t get to watch the two as another smaller person slinked from the cop car and headed straight for them. Mikaela screeched the sight of the thing and embedded her nails into his skin. The thing launched itself at the pair and chased them down the embankment cornering them at a fence that encircled the entire compound. It had a humanoid appearance with arms, legs, fingers and eyes, but its sharp razor teeth and deranged eyes that seemed to bare into their souls, clearly stated it was anything but humanoid. The small metal man jumped at Sam and tried to crawl up his leg. Sam imminently started shaking his leg, hoping to rid himself of the thing as Mikaela dashed into a nearby shed for a weapon. In the background shots rang through the air and loud voices yelled at each other.

“He’s got me! Oh, God.”

“No, no, no, no! Get off!” Sam shrieked as the thing managed to worm its way up his wiggling body and had started to claw at his face.

* * *

 

Yes Frenzy is in this and he’s exactly the same. Next chapter is the landing!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today’s story is brought to you by COMMON SENSE…..where and when did I loose mine?
> 
> FYI- this is where I start to detour from the movie…but kudos if you recognize some lines!!

**Mafia Formers**

Chapter Five

Mikaela arrived shortly with a buzz saw and with a vicious grin she hacked the creatures head off. “Not so tough without a head are ya?” She cried kicking the decapitated head, sending it flying into the distance.

Adrenalin pumping through his system Sam leaned down on his knee’s sucking in deep breaths, trying to calm his spinning mind, it felt as if his head was going to fly off his head and then he’d start to convulse. He’d never been so terrified in his entire life. The shots up ahead had ceased and on shaky legs Sam stumbled forward slightly, Mikaela reached out and pulled his arm over her shoulder. He smiled gratefully at her. The climbed up the embankment and stopped.

The boy in the yellow had just finished pumbling the cop with his fist, the evidence on his bloody knuckles. What shocked the two wasn’t the bloody law officer but the large robotic thing a few meters away twitching slightly as it sparked. The silver mech and the cop both had similar glowing red eyes that Sam couldn’t pass off as a coincidence. His beat up old Camaro sat just feet away from the dented mech, the front of the hood dented in several places and one of the back tail lights gone. The boy looked up at their approach and smiled briefly before jogging to the car and driving it over to them. Opening the door once more of the two teens.

Sam looked at the boy’s handsome features and then the open door. It just felt right. Struggling from Mikaela arms Sam wobbled towards the car. A hand reached out and held his elbow. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t think he wants to hurt us, hell he just beat up a cop for us.”

“They just had a death match with their fists.” Mikaela spat and then pointed to the mech who lay near the unconscious cop. “And that’s not human.”

“I think he wants something from me?” Sam said glancing back at the boy; he did a double take when he noticed the boy was no longer wearing sunglasses. His eyes where the light blue of the sky, causing  his heart to lurch oddly.

“What could he possibly want from you?”

“Well the other one was talking about my eBay page.” Sam replied as he walked forward.

“You are the strangest boy I have ever met.” Mikaela cried in frustration as she followed after Sam, unwilling to be left behind.

They approached the car. Neither getting in, just staring at the boy who meet their gazes. “Can you talk?” Sam asked after a moment.

The boy glanced at the car’s radio as it turned on. “Xm Satellite Radio…. Digital cable brings you…Broadcasting system…”

Mikaela let out a breathless laugh and stepped closer. “So you…you talk through the radio?”

“Thank you, you’re beautiful, you’re wonderful you’re wonderful.” The radio replied as the boy smiled cheekily.

Sam took a step closer, resting his arm on the top of the car and leaning down to gaze at the boy. “So, what was that last night?”

“Throughout the inanimate vastness of space….a message from Starfleet captain…”

“Are you and alien or something?” Mikaela asked unsure if this was all just a huge prank.

The boy looked straight ahead a smug smile on his lips. “Any more questions you want to ask? Let’s ride?”

Mikaela looked at Sam, before they both glanced back at the giant mech and cop laying on the ground then then back at the boy. The two nodded and climbed into the car, both of them sitting in the back seat. The boy chuckled, and hit the gas, speeding into the night. The boy drove away from the destroyed factory and down the highway at a speed Sam was sure to get them pulled over and arrested but he didn’t see any sirens. Which also indicated that cop and giant mech thing weren’t coming after them either. Mikaela looked out the window blankly, her forehead against the cool window pane. Sam touched his face and wasn’t surprised to find blood from where the crazy thing had scratched him.

This had to be one of the craziest days of Sam’s life, no scratch that. The most bizarre two days in his entire existence. And he was positive he’d had enough excitement to last him a life time.  But that nagging voice in the back of his head, gently whispered that getting into the car ended his old life. He glanced out the window into the darkness rushing by and couldn’t help a sigh that escaped his lips; the boy looked up and met Sam’s eyes thought his rear-view mirror. Sam felt a jolt go down his spine and he quickly looked away. He had to remind himself that the boy that was driving the car wasn’t human, it was a doll. A doll that he’d thrown away in a junk yard. That helped calm his mind, but only just.

He must have dozed off because the boy was slowly pulling into a dark alley way where four other vehicles waited in a semi-circle. A silver Pontiac solstice to the far left next to a Black 72' GMC, then a blue big rig with red flames followed by a bright yellow ambulance.  Four men stood in front of the cars and Sam had to suppress a giggle as he got a good look at them. They looked as if they’d stepped out of a 1920’s movie, with their pinstripe suits, waist coats and fedoras. Not that they didn’t all look great, just slightly out of place. The boy motioned for them to exit the car and followed the two teens, gently nudging them to move closer. Sam noticed the same robotic face symbol on all of their collar shirts that was also on the car steering wheel.

“Are you Samuel James Witwicky, descendent of Archibald Witwicky?” The tallest man asked his fedora low on his head. His dark blue suit contrasting against his flaming red under shirt and white tie.

Mikaela gripped Sam’s elbow, her nails digging through his jacket, gasping with surprise. “They know you’re name!”

“Yea.” Sam replied with more strength in his voice than he truly felt. He wanted to high-tail it out of the dark alley way but something in his gut held him grounded.

“My name is Optimus Prime. We are a group of autonomous bi-functional organisms from the planet of Cybertron. But you can call us Autobots.”

“What’s crackin’ little bitches?” The burly black man by the Pontiac Solstice, called out with a happy grin.

Optimus sighed, averting his eyes, “My first lieutenant; Jazz.”

Jazz grinned at Mikaela and Sam before jumping on the hood of a nearby car to recline. It might have looked relaxed if his muscles didn’t constantly twitch at every sound and he stopped wearily glancing around. “This looks like a cool place to kick it, Man you’ve been holding out on us.” Jazz said to the boy in the yellow shirt.

The boy shrugged as if it wasn’t his decision to make. Optimus motioned to his left at the burly man beside him. His hair was pulled back into a short-pony-tail. At his side rested, what appeared to be two laser cannons. “My weapon specialist Ironhide.”

Swiftly Ironhide pulled his cannons so they were parallel to Sam and Mikaela’s face, each took a step back. He grinned happily as if he’d enjoy blowing holes in them and Sam had a distinct feeling Ironhide actually would enjoy that.

“You feeling lucky punk?”

“Easy Ironhide.”

The man lowered his cannons dejectedly. “Just kidding! I just wanted to show them my cannons.”

“They’re…nice?!” Sam hesitantly replied, Ironhide glanced back up at him and smiled.

“He liked my cannons!” The man announced happily to no-on in particular.

“Don’t encourage him.” The man to Optimus’ left muttered, his dark hair ruffled in odd directions as if he ran his hand through it a lot.

“My medical officer, Ratchet.”

Ratchet regarded the teens thoughtfully before turning back to his black device. “The boy’s stress indicators mirror that of the females.”

Sam turned to openly stare at Mikaela, before crossing his arms over his chest. He felt strangely violated by the older man’s nonchalant prognosis of his feelings. This was a bizarre meeting to say the least. The boy in yellow startled to shift his weight as Optimus tugged at his white tie, his displeasure illustrating his need to get out of the monkey suit.

“You already know your guardian, Bumblebee.”

Sam swirled to look at the boy in yellow his eyes flickering to the Camaro with its black stripes. He chuckled as the boy messed with his datapad before playfully punching the air, a small segment from the radio echoing in the night air.

“Check on the rep

Yep second to none”

Optimus sighed, something Sam figured the man did a lot of, and his group seemed troublesome enough. “He’s shy about speaking in front of others.”

“What are you doing here?” Sam finally asked.

Optimus looked up and down the dank alley way, his eyes languidly sweeping the corners. His back remained straight, giving him a powerful aura. Sam guessed that was his natural stance. “It’s public property anyone may converse here.”

“No, no I mean here as in, why are you in this alleyway talking to us?”

“We are looking for the cube!” Optimus said seriously.

* * *

 

Ahhhhhhhhhahahahahah! Yes! Next up…..an explanation!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “What’s wrong with you…..grown men fear me!”………Grrrroar!!!! – I actually know someone who’s said that!

**MafiaFormers**

Chapter Six

Optimus sighed sadly and crossed his arms, shifting his weight. “Our planet was once a powerful empire. Peaceful and just. Until we were betrayed by Megatron, the former High Lord protector and leader of the Decepticons.”

Sam looked over at Mikaela and mouth ‘High lord protector?’ She shrugged her shoulders and silently shushed him. They turned back to the older man as he launched into his tale.

“All who defied the Decepticons were destroyed. Megatron wanted war and violence in a world that hadn’t known fear for millenniums. War spread until the planet was consumed and the cube was lost into the stars, cast out for its own protection. Megatron followed the cube to Earth, where your Grandfather happened to stumble upon his frozen remains and the coordinates where imprinted on his glasses.”

“My grandfather?” Sam asked baffled, conveniently forgetting the major plot holes in Optimus story like what in the world a cube was.

“What was that thing at the factory? Was that a Decepticon?” Mikaela interrupted, the question had been burning in her mind for the past hour.

Optimus frowned and turned to Bumblebee who opened his mouth, but instead of words a garbled gibberish flowed from his lips, sounding very much like a broken fax machine. That instantly convinced Sam they were aliens. Ironhide nodded at Bumblebee proudly as Ratchet pulled a small device from his pocket and a green laser scanned the boy, startling the humans, before the Doctor nodded and went back to fiddling with his datapad. Said humans still gaping in shock.

“His designation was Barricade.” Optimus said, his eyes still trained on the young scout, whose chest was puffed up.

“The cop or the giant robot?” Mikaela questioned.

“Both.” Ironhide supplied.

“So the cop named his robot Barricade after himself?” Mikaela mused trying to fit the pieces together. It didn’t help that the aliens where being very tight-lipped about it.

“No, Barricade is the cop and the mech.” Ironhide said again.

Mikaela looked at Sam checking to see if he’d made any connections, but his pathetic shrug confirmed otherwise. “Just get to the point, who was Barricade and was he a Decepticon?”

“The cop and mech are one in the same and both where from the Decepticon fraction” Ratchet replied, his head down and fingers flying over his pad.

Mikaela held up her hands in frustration. “You know what, never mind. I did not sign up for this.”

Sam looked at her incredibly. “B-But you got in the car!” He stammered, not wanting her to leave. It wasn’t that the mafia themed aliens scared him, so much as it was just nice to have someone else share in his colossal secret, and because he was positive they wouldn’t allow him to tell anyone else.

“Yeah,” She replied, popping her hip. “To get away from the mech-alien-thing, NOT to meet more extraterrestrials. My life is complicated enough. Robotic aliens wanting help to find a box-.”

“Cube.” Jazz interjected, with a lazy smile as he folded his arms behind his head.

Mikaela waved a tiny hand in the air. “Whatever; this is not what I need.”

Optimus sighed and nodded thoughtfully. “If that is what you wish.”

“Yes, wipe my memory, probe me but let me go home.”

Ironhide muttered something under his breath that caused Ratchet to sharply glance up at the large man and cover his face with his hand. Bumblebee shifted uncomfortably and refused to meet Sam’s inquiring gaze. Sam got the jest of Ironhide’s comment when Jazz slowly looked Mikaela over with, what can only be described as hungry eyes. He looked over at the girl he’d just started to call a friend and suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Thankfully the girl in question didn’t notice anything, that or she ignored it completely.

Jazz snorted. “Girl, you watch too much Sci-fi.”

Mikaela cracked a relieved smile and Sam bit his lip and glanced over at his guardian. “Should we take her home then?”

Bumblebee grinned eagerly and the Camaro’s engine revved. Sam jumped and shot a look at the un-manned vehicle. Mikaela eyed the older aliens carefully, before turning with Sam and Bumblebee to climb back into the car, but where suddenly blocked by Jazz. A large silver gun pointed straight at Sam’s heart, Sam stood shocked wondering what had gone wrong? And why the gun was aimed directly at him. Mikaela barely breathed.

“The girl may leave, but Sam stays here.” Optimus’s voice cut the silence.

It hit him then that the mafia theme might have been closer to home then he’d like to truly believe. Optimus had given a signal and the others had jumped to do his bidding. They worked as one well-oiled unit, no pun intended. He also fully realized that although Bumblebee had been looking out for him, and had been personally designated as his guardian by Optimus. Bumblebee ultimately worked for the older man. The one with the intense blue eyes that had seen far too much of the world. The man that had another’s gun pointed at his chest, awaiting another signal.

Sam slowly pivoted on his heels; weary one wrong move would leave him dead, and gaped at the older man. “What? Why?”

Ratchet recovered from Ironhide’s words and had gone to lean against the ambulance. His face scrunched up in a scowl, Sam couldn’t help but think the medical officer usually looked like that. His face seemed to be in a permanent frown and it oddly suited him. He reminded Sam a lot like Dr. McCoy from the old re-runs of Star Trek, his father insisted they watch together for father-son bonding.

“Once we have the glasses you may leave.” Optimus said resolutely.

Sam looked at Optimus and then quickly down to his old sneakers, unable to maintain eye contact with the older man. Optimus’s eyes seemed to compel Sam to fully comply and he really didn’t want to. “I don’t have them.”

“What!?” Ironhide cried angrily, his cannons flying up to point at Sam.

Sam was getting tired of people and aliens asking him ‘what’ and mortally threatening him. He was partly worried he’d become so used to the constant threats they’d stop bothering him. Two laser cannons to his face and a Desert Eagle at his back, Sam felt his life disappearing before his eyes, but strangely enough he felt pretty calm. The calmness bothered him more than the loaded weapons aimed for his beating heart. He felt slightly better at Mikaela’s stricken face to his left and Bumblebee’s locked jaw and clenched fists to his right. It did feel nice to have others on his side, watching his back. Even if he’d only know both of them for about two days.

“I said; I don’t’ have them.” He said between clenched teeth.

“Are you not Ladiesman217?” Optimus asked his voice dipping dangerously, added with the dark and secluded alley made him appear down right frightening.

Beside him Mikaela relaxed and snorted. “Ladies man?” She questioned rudely with a raised eyebrow.

That was the last straw. Sam grudgingly hated her for mocking him with three weapons pointed at his heart. Couldn’t she have cut him a little slack? “Jock concubine.” He hissed back, pleased when her smug smirk fell.

“Anti-social nerd.” She sneered back, lips twitching.

He clinched his fists, momentarily distracted from the deadly weapons. “Shallow princess.”

“Scrawny wuss.”

His face fell. “Car junkie.”

She sputtered angrily, “Gay!”

“Enough!” Optimus bellowed, startling the two teens to jump apart. Blazing blue eyes turned to bore into Sam, making him shrink back. “Why don’t you have the glasses? Are you not Ladiesman217?”

Sam got the distinct feeling Optimus wasn’t going to ask him the same question again without having either Jazz or Ironhide blow a few holes in him.

“Let’m fight a bit more. I was lovin’ it.” Jazz drawled from behind, and was promptly ignored by everyone.

“It’s actually my dad’s web page. I just set it up and manage it.” Sam admitted.

Ironhide lowered his cannon’s and glance at his leader. As Ironhide’s weapons moved from Sam’s chest, Bumblebee stepped in front of him, shooting Jazz a glare, who placed his gun back in his jacket with a shrug. The black man walking back to his car, giving Mikaela another once-over as he walked by. Sam felt oddly comforted by his guardian’s protection, against his own team mates. His eyes traced the back of Bumblebee’s head and rested at the nape of his neck where single curl hung.

Sam’s pocket vibrated and he almost jumped out of his skin in surprise. He’d been so engrossed he had forgotten about it. He reached into his pants pocket; finger tips brushing over the cube necklace in his pocket, and saw his home was calling. He signed and held up a hand, silently asking the Autobots to remain silent. He didn’t want to have to explain this to his father. A broken doll was one thing while aliens and giant robots where another.

“Listen dad, I know it’s late but-.”

 “Ladiesman217?”

The voice on the other end was not his father. In fact he’d never heard that voice in his life. It sounded like a man in his early forties, with a foreign accent. Sam looked questioningly behind him and then turned back around. He’d never out live that username and it was his dad’s idea, another mark on the reasons he was starting to despise his father. Some parent he was. He turned back and cupped the phone closer to his ear.

“Last night you told the policemen a strange doll stole your car.” The foreign voice said.

“its fine now, just a misunderstanding.” Sam reassured the unknown man.

“Sam don’t say anything, not a word until we get a lawyer.” His father shouted in the back ground. Sam had to strain but he could hear movement, lots of it.

“What…what are you doing?” Sam hissed angrily.

“All will be returned to you, when you return what’s rightfully ours.” The man’s voice said silkily.

Sam felt as if he was talking to the devil himself. “What’s yours?”

“What do you know about aliens?”

Sam’s head whipped back around to glance wildly at the group behind him that had closed in. Trying to listened in while maintaining a respectful distance. “Oh, you mean, like a Martian. Like what E.T? No! Nothing!” He lied.

The voice laughed huskily. “Well when you do, tell the gang, that if they come back like good little boys. I might let the civilians go.”

“Who else do you have?” Sam questioned frantically.

“A scrawny child and a pile of scrap we found at the factory, but the choice is yours.” The man said as the line went dead.

Sam’s face paled as he turned to face the ‘gang’. Mikaela and Bumblebee looked at him hopefully but the four older members all looked resigned and distant. Optimus’s eyes shone brightly and where half-laden in what Sam could only describe as sadness, a sadness that hung over him like a dark cloud. The darkness all-around him felt oppressive and terrifying.

“Someone was at our house; he took my parents and Miles.” Sam said.

“What did he want?” Mikaela asked hesitantly, unknowingly getting sucked into the drama.

“Them.” Sam said jerking his chin at Optimus, who lowered his head to shade his eyes with his fedora while Ironhide growled softly.

“Simmons.”

* * *

 

Muahahaha…I bet that was unexpected...kinda!

Wuss- is also not technically in the dictionary (who knew)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t put that fork in there, I don’t want blood on my ice cream” – Siblings are the best invention ever

**MafiaFormers**

Chapter 7

“Who’s Simmons?” Mikaela asked hesitantly.

“The craziest mother-,” Jazz started to say before Optimus shot him a warning glance. “He’s a little off.”

“He has my parents and best friend.” Sam bellowed as he stalked towards his Camaro. Fully intent on saving all three, guns to his heart or not.

He only made it five steps before Bumblebee was standing in his path, he growled and tried to shove the other boy away, but he might have tried to kick a wall down for all the good it had done. Mikaela had also headed for the car and was currently in the tight grip of Jazz. Sam looked back and glared at Optimus.

“You said you’d let her go.”

“I changed my mind as the circumstances changed.” Optimus said plainly.

“Again who is Simmons?” Mikaela questioned, tapping her foot. She didn’t seem to have a problem with the man’s hands firmly on her thin shoulders.

“He’s the head of Sector Seven.” Ironhide growled, gripping his cannons threateningly.

Sam rubbed under his eyes tiredly, having pocketed his cell phone. “What does this Sector Seven want with you guys?”

“They want us locked up so tight; we couldn’t breathe without it being catalogued.” Ironhide spat.

* * *

 

Miles yelped in surprise as the two men yanked open a large metal door with a small window in the middle and roughly pushed the young teen inside of the barren room. He still wasn’t sure why these mysterious men had barged into his house, knocked out his parents and then forced him into their shiny SUV. The tinted windows coupled with the dark evening made determining his current location next to impossible. He knew that he was at least an hour away from town and in a giant metal building that felt wrong.  They must have drugged him or knocked out because he couldn’t remember walking into the building he was currently being drug through. His arms jutted out as he braced his fall and turned to sit on his butt as the heavy door slammed shut. He scrambled up and clawed at the door, but there wasn’t a handle and the mental rubbed his fingers raw. He whipped his head around, eyes tracing the walls. There wasn’t even a security camera. He crawled over to the corner and curled in on himself ignoring the lumpy mattress to his right. He buried his head in his arms, his long blonde hair falling to veil his face.

“What did I do wrong?” He whispered dejectedly into the darkness.

Miles remained in his corner, feeling safer with his back firmly against the cold and cracked wall. The single light bulb in his cell flickered ominously and Miles had to dig his nails into his skin to keep from bursting into terrified tears. He would not break down! He stared blankly at the center of his prison, shifting slightly when his legs started to fall asleep. He figured he’d been in the cell for a few hours when his ears picked up a noise. His head shot up at the sound of a loud voice growing. He also could pick up the sound of metal scraping against the floor; in such a manner it sounded as if something was being dragged. His door opened and the same two men in black suits, held another man, both his legs shackled to his wrists, effectively preventing him from moving much at all.

The men snickered and shoved the new person into Miles cell and left, their shoes clicking as they retreated down the hall of empty cells, save for the last that the two now resided in. Miles studied the man who had fallen to his knees, but remained silent. The man looked to be in his mid-twenties. He wore black pants and a ripped blue shirt, spotted in blood. He had black hair cut short and layered, and was undoubtedly handsome. Said man kept his head down and eyes laden as he struggled to stand up. The chains made it difficult and he sagged to the right. Miles had jumped up and was at the man’s right, supporting him before he could even stop to think.

“What did you do?”

“Shut it fleshling. I eat kids like you for breakfast.” The man muttered darkly, but leaned against Miles for support.

Miles smiled and eased the man towards the mattress, the pair only moving inches at a time because of the heavy shackles. When they had made it to the mattress, Miles had moved in front of the man and gently pushed him down; pulling the chains so the man wouldn’t get tangled in them. The man grunted and let his head fall to his chest, Miles smirked taking the grunt as the closest thing to appreciation he’d get. He stepped away and retreated back to his corner, sliding down and resting his chin on his knees just watching his new cellmate. The man breathed heavily but remained silent.

“What’s your name kid?”

Miles head jerked up. “I thought you wanted me to shut up?”

“Just talk to me.” The man growled, his fists clenching.

Miles sighed and nodded, figuring the man wanted a distraction. “My name is Miles Lancaster and I’m 17. I’m also a genius.”

“Humble much?”

“No just honest.” Miles replied easily, the tension of the room slowly draining as the man’s well-muscled shoulders relaxed. Miles was also honest enough with himself to admit the man sitting on the lumpy mattress was downright hot, and could possibly put Mikaela to shame.

“I met my best friend in middle school during gym class. We were both hiding during a free-for-all dodge ball game, under the bleachers. I excel in mathematics and chemical equations. My parents want me to work with equations and in math labs but I really love star gazing. I’d love to be a researcher. But apparently that isn’t a worthy enough job for someone of my skills. I also bought my own telescope by washing cars for two summers in a row.” Miles rambled on, wondering why he was telling a total stranger all of his personal information.

The man nodded slowly, his breathing deliberate. "So you like stargazing? What do you think about aliens?"

Miles shrugged nonchalantly. "As I've never personally met one I don't have anything to base my reaction on, but I don't see myself freaking or passing out."

The man’s head bobbed and he fell silent. Miles curled back in himself and rested his cheek upon his boney knees, his mind swirled with equations and questions about the mysterious man. It was all he could do not to burst into terrified tears and scrap at the metal door till his fingers bled. He’d never admitted to being a strong person of heart, just of mind.

"Barricade."  The man grunted.

Miles lifted his eyes up but kept his head on his knees. "What?"

"My name fleshling." Barricade replied.

"Why do you call me that? Just call me Miles." He sighed tiredly, not interest in arguing with his only company.

Barricade laughed dryly and Miles looked up as the man intertwined his fingers, popping them loudly. “Would you like to meet an alien?"

"At this moment? No, I'd like to leave this cell first."

Barricade looked up and met Miles's eyes. Miles felt his jaw drop slowly as he starred into Barricades deep red irises. It was as if he was gazing upon a glowing ruby and he couldn't look away, they seemed to draw him in. The foreignness of the color didn't twist at his gut; surprisingly his only thought was on why the man didn’t look at him sooner. Miles wanted to drown in the deep red. Barricade coughed loudly, startling Miles from his trance, he looked away embarrassed, unable to believe he’d just been fantasizing about another males eyes. Not to mention he’d been openly starring at the older man.

"Sorry."

"I am intimidating," Barricade responded matter-of-factly.

Miles shook his head, words tumbling from his mouth without being filtered. "No, your eyes are beautiful."

Barricades head shot up as his red eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Umm... Yes."

Miles blushed, begrudging himself for doing so and fiddled with the edge of his pants. "So you're an alien?"

"No I just happen to be extremely handsome with glowing red eyes! It's perfectly human. Of Course I'm an alien you pathetic flesh bag." He growled, but Miles didn't feel any aggression in the man’s words.

“Can I ask you some questions?” Miles tentatively asked, his voice rising with excitement.

Barricade noticed the boy’s happy expression and enjoyed denying the kid. “No, not in this hell hole.”

"If we escape will you answer my questions then?"

Barricade snorted but shrugged his shoulders. "Boy if we escape I'll keep you as a pet and tell you everything."

Miles chuckled. "I like the ‘everything’ part but being your 'pet' not so much."

Barricade held out his hands. “Firstly, we can’t go anywhere because of these, and secondly I think you’d make a great pet. Seeing as how you already keep to the corner and your hair is a nice silky golden yellow”

Miles scowled at the man but refused to take the obvious bait. It may be fun for Barricade but Miles didn’t like to engage in verbal disputes. That and he normally lost. “You can stay in them you freak.”

“Human you dare-.”

“My name is Miles, Barricade. I don’t call you E.T so don’t call me by my species.” Miles finally snapped, he hated the term human. It made his skin crawl.

“I will call you what I please.” The man roared, causing Miles to flatten his back against the wall in shock of the volume of the Barricade’s voice. “If I were in my other form I’d crush you.”

“Other form?” Miles questioned, willing his heart to stop racing in his chest.

Barricade glared at the boy but said nothing, choosing to scoot back on the mattress until his back was also against the cool wall. He had nothing to look at save the blonde human so he resorted to studying the organism squirm under his unblinking gaze. He was also pleasantly surprised the teen had a backbone, which might make his long stay in hell slightly more bearable.

“Entertain me.”

Miles snorted and shook his head, as he wrapped his arms around his knees. Allowing his eyes to drop close. “Entertain yourself.”

“I want you to do it.” Barricade purred.

Miles slowly looked up at the alien and felt his face flush before he buried it back in his arms. Barricade laughed at the human’s reaction, with a smug smile. This might not be that horrible of a prison as long has he got to keep the human as a cellmate, he might actually enjoy himself.

“I’ll entertain you, but you answer my questions.” Miles replied softly, still unsure how Barricade wished to be entertained but he was sure the man just wanted someone intelligent to converse with.

Barricade pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the human, radiating his darkest aura but the boy didn’t back down from his stare or statement. Reluctantly Barricade looked away with a sigh. “Fine.” He grumbled. “I am a bi-functional being. This is one of my two bodies I reside in, and before you ask yes both are me. I won’t talk about that subject again.”

Miles nodded and when Barricade beckoned him forward he obeyed without hesitation. He sat where the man pointed to at the edge of the mattress on the floor. Crossing his legs, Miles put his hands in his laps. “So what are you doing here?”

“I followed my father, when he escaped our planets tyrannical ruler Prime.” Barricade huffed angrily.

“Tyrannical ruler Prime?” Miles asked skeptically, now wondering if this was a lame movie plot, he slyly glanced around checking once more for cameras

Barricade signed wondering why he was telling a fleshy, although incredibly intelligent and even-minded fleshy, all this information? “Our planet was ruled by the Autobots and their leader the Prime for hundreds of years. A rebel group rose up to resist the harsh rule of the so-called peace-keepers. They took my uncle and brother and turned them against us. My father and I escaped trying to find a way to save our planet and people from the Autobots.”

“Why couldn’t they have just elected a new president or overthrown them?”

Barricade shook his head. “The Autobots are an underground mafia group that grew to fame through Energon trafficking.”

“Energon is-.”

“Your equivalent to alcohol.”

“Ok, so let me get this straight, you have a government but this mafia group called the Autobots actually rule?” Miles questioned.

Barricade nodded and his chest rumbled in anger. “They tried to assassinate the High Lord Protector.” At Miles raised eyebrow, he answered the un-spoken question. “It’s like the president.”

“If you’re not an Autobot, what are you?”

Barricade smiled, truly smiled his red eyes sparkling. “A Decepticon.”

* * *

 

FYI I love Miles….He’s (in my opinion) not loved enough

**Factly** is not a word but I have heard the phrase ‘matter-of-factly’. THUS I have concluded the English language is bizarre!


	8. Chapter 8

**◊MafiaFormers** **◊**

Chapter Eight

Sam clenched his fits tight and tried not to scream in frustration. “I don’t care, who he is or what he wants, he has my parents and best friend. And if I remember correctly you need the glasses which only my father have, who may I remind you was kidnapped. So you tell me, what now?”

Mikaela looked from Sam who fumed, silently glaring daggers at the silent Autobot leader. Optimus sighed and raised a hand; Jazz immediately released her go and took a step back. She smiled, but hadn’t felt threatened and slightly wished his presence back at her side.

“I don’t think yelling at them-.”

“Why are you defending them, I thought this was too much and the princess needed.-“

Mikaela felt her cheeks flush and she moved before she could process her thoughts thought, her arm raised and palm flat, every fiber of her being telling her to bitch slap the pompous jerk in front of her. Bumblebee glowered and moved to intercept the two teens, but she stood closer to Sam and before he could utter another insulting word, she slapped his so hard his face jerked to the side and his words died on his tongue. She felt a smug smile pull at her lips as the boy reached a shaking hand to tenderly touch his reddening cheek.

“I think I needed that,” he said in a low whisper.

Mikaela nodded curtly as Jazz laughed patting her on the shoulder as if she’d just won an Olympic metal, she beamed back at the man. Behind Jazz, Optimus guarded her with level eyes but otherwise seemed passive that she’d just attacked another person out of anger. It was strange most adults should have stepped in and told her she was in the wrong for using violence to shut someone up. The fact that the Autobots leader didn’t interject of even seem vaguely worried bothered Mikaela. It felt as if she’d eaten something wrong and it was twisting at her stomach, churning and brooding, but she quickly dismissed the feeling.

Sam looked over at Bumblebee who was starring intensely at his hand with large worried eyes. The boy looked down at his worn out shoes and sighed softly. He had been panicking and yes also rude, but he still felt the violence towards him wasn’t completely justified and coupled that no one was asking him if he was ok was angering him. He gulped and looked up, his hazy mind now sharp with adrenalin. It was amazing how a simple slap made him feel as hyped up as five energy drinks.

Sam hated it but he knew he had to have permission; otherwise Bumblebee wasn’t going to budge a step. “Can we go, please!”

Optimus rubbed his angled chin and nodded. “That would be acceptable. Autobots roll out.”

Bumblebee let out a sigh and pulled Sam toward the yellow Camaro before the leader could object. Mikaela found herself being led to Jazz’s car and followed obediently. Ratchet climbed into the ambulance as Ironhide lifted himself into the large GMC, Sam thought the large blue and red big rig fit Optimus perfectly; large in presence and flashy. He stifled his laughter into his hand as he sat in the passenger’s seat, giving Bumblebee a hesitantly smile before the teen hit the gas and they were once again zooming off into the darkness.

“Why do you do what he says?” Sam asked into the darkness, not needing to elaborate who ‘he’ was.

Bumblebee gripped the steering wheel tighter. “He asked me?”

Sam jerked around in his seat, the seatbelt suddenly locking on him, making his turn difficult. He looked over at Bumblebee his jaw open in disbelief. The teen alien had answered in a voice that wasn’t from the radio but his own. It was light and gentle, the kind of voice others just wanted to sit and listen too. His mind got over the shock at hearing a voice he never thought he’d hear and processed the other boy’s words.

“So just because he asked you, you follow him blindly? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Sam I can’t expect you to understand everything but-.”

“I don’t know if I want to,” Sam muttered.

Bumblebee sighed and shook his head, his brown curls flopping. “I’m sorry for earlier but-.”

“Oh you’re sorry,” Sam chuckled dryly, rubbing his hands on his knees.

“Listen things are different then-.”

“You can’t just expect me to just trust you,” Sam blurted out.

“Just give us a chance and you’ll-.”

“I didn’t ask for this. It was never my plan to assist aliens in finding a cube.”

“Will you Shut Up!” Bumblebee cried out, his blue eyes darkening. Sam was so shocked his jaw snapped closed. “Let me speak, Primus above. What I’ve been trying to tell you is I won’t harm you or let anything or one come near you. So please stay with us.”

Sam looked over at his guardian, and then looked away out the window unable to look at the handsome boy any longer and his pleading blue eyes. He clutched at his blue jeans, trying to keep his hands from shaking. It didn’t help much but the action eased his mind, reminded him it was his decision. He could asked to be dropped off, could tell Bumblebee and the Autobots to bugger off. He was quite certain they would too, although he had a strange feeling Optimus wouldn’t be happy and he didn’t ever want to anger the alien leader. Maybe it was the cold blue of his eyes or the way he silently commanded others, or possibly the heavy presence the man had in a dark alley way littered with trash and gods know what else, but Sam didn’t think Optimus was used to being rejected. So he wasn’t going to be the first to start, and if he was truly honest with himself and that little voice in the back of his head. He was enjoying himself, the mystery, the adrenalin rush and the promise of an adventure. His teenage mind was jumping for joy.

Bumblebee rolled to a stop in Sam’s drive way, the boy bolted out of the car, leaving the door open as he rushed towards his darkened home. The neighborhood was quite, and nothing moved. It would have seemed peaceful if not for the tenseness looming in the air. Sam was shock none of his nosy neighbors had peeked out their windows of ventured out to see why so many cars and a large truck had gathers around the Witwicky residence. The sound of another door opening followed by Mikaela’s foot, told of her approach. She shadowed Sam as the two approached his house both tensing at the half-opened door. Both teen’s breaths where labored and rough. Sam cautiously stepped in his house, not bothering to turn on the lights.

The kitchen table was broken and the lamp in the living room was hanging down by its wires. The signs of struggle where clear and Sam gulped as the pushed his horrible thoughts from his head. The further the two teens traveled into the house the messier it became. Shelves where up turned and drawers raided. Even the kitchen was a complete wreck. Sam motioned for Mikaela to quietly follow him up the stairs and every room save his own was searched from top to bottom. Whoever had checked their house obviously thought he didn’t have anything to hide. A brief smile played on his lips, never underestimate a teenager.

“They didn’t find what they were looking for,” Sam said triumphantly.

Mikaela looked questionably at him. “And how do you know that?”

“Because I have the glasses.”

She gaped at him. “But you told the Autobots your dad had them.”

Sam looked back at the girl as he walked back down the stairs, returning to the dining room he found his black backpack thrown into a corner and he dug through it until he found a pair of old wire rimmed glasses. He held them up for Mikaela and she grinned as he tucked them into his inner jacket pocket.

“The Autobots will be.-”

“No we can’t tell them,” Sam cut in.

She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Why not, this will help them.”

“I need them to help me first, we just met them. What’s to say they won’t take the glasses and run off?”

Mikaela opened her mouth to reply but closed it as the thought, she nodded reluctantly. “Ok.”

Sam led her from his house and back towards the aliens, feeling slightly more confident he had a bargaining chip to insure his parents and best friend got rescued. Bumblebee stood beside the Camaro, looking worried but the other three remained in their cars. Mikaela walked back to Jazz, and climbed in his solstice with a smile. Sam journey over to Bumblebee and slid back in.

“Sector Seven?” Sam asked.

Bumblebee looked behind him towards Optimus who nodded before driving off. Bumblebee backed up and followed behind Jazz. The four aliens traveling in a line. “Yes Sam we’re going to go find Sector Seven.”

 

* * *

 

Miles looked up as the metal door was thrown open; he jumped and imminently stood, blocking Barricade for the suited men. He might not have been able to see their eye but their twisted smiles didn’t speak of anything good. Behind him Barricade chuckled, but remained sitting against the wall, his head tiredly tilted to the side and red eyes dim.

“What do you want humans?” He sneered.

Neither looked surprised at his comment. “We’re here to repair your crumbled body,” the taller one spoke.

Miles head snapped back as his eyes raked over Barricades body checking for any wounds or bruises. Other than looking absolutely exhausted the man looked fine. He looked back at the suits wondering if they’d lost their marbles. He had to remind himself he was sharing a prison cell with an alien, anything was possible. Barricade didn’t move, which agitated the guards to move inside their cell to forcefully pulled the man up. Miles protested at the pained look on the older man’s face at the chains tripped him up and cut further into his raw wrists.

“You’re hurting him!”

“It doesn’t feel pain,” the taller guard insisted as he easily shoved Miles away with one hand.

Miles fell to the floor and watched helplessly as they dragged his cell mate out. Just before the door was once again slammed shut she could have sworn Barricade looked back at him and smiled, but that could have just as easily been a trick of the light. Sighing heavily Miles crawled back to his previous corner and huddled in on himself. This was one of the worst days of his life and he just wanted to leave, just wanted this horrible dream to finish. But every time he awoke from dozing off only left him still in a small metal cell with dim lighting and worried sick about the strange alien he’d met hours before.


End file.
